


The Gift of Hearing

by Melody_Of_The_River



Series: Seeing Voices [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Deaf Character, Deaf Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Morning Sex, Mute Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 07:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melody_Of_The_River/pseuds/Melody_Of_The_River
Summary: Lazy mornings are for lying in bed with your husband and thinking how in thefuckyou got so lucky.





	The Gift of Hearing

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the wonderful [@crownlessk_ing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownlessk_ing/pseuds/crownlessk_ing). Please check out his work, and send him all the love :)
> 
> Written as part of an anonymous prompt request on tumblr.

The hairs on Erwin’s fingers have always amused Levi. Amused, because for a man who is so hairless everywhere else, he sure seems to have a lot on his fingers, a place where there is really no need for it. There’s not even that much hair on his arm. But on his fingers, just below his knuckles, lies a thicket of blond that Levi often finds himself admiring – especially on mornings like this one, where they shine golden in the sunlight peering from behind the blinds; the wedding band on his finger only heightening the effect.

When Levi tries to tell Erwin this – how beautiful the gold on his fingers look, and how soft it feels when he slides the back of his knuckles down his forearms, across his shoulders, how that hair tickles his cheek when he strokes it softly while Levi is sleeping – Erwin feigns ignorance and blushes with his entire body. It’s one of the few things that never fails to make Levi smile.

Erwin has his one arm over Levi, holding him to his naked chest from behind, and the left one is tucked underneath him, his fingers laced with Levi’s. Levi wonders how Erwin has not yet lost all feeling in his arm; he’s been resting his head on it all night. Levi tries to lighten the weight on Erwin’s bicep by turning around to face him, but Erwin’s iron grip around his body is unbreakable. Levi is only able to wiggle a little, but all he manages to achieve by that is bring his ear even closer to Erwin’s lips. The man’s heavy sleep-laden breaths tickle him, and Levi cannot help the shiver that runs down his spine at that.

Erwin stirs behind him. The arm that had enveloped Levi descends downward on his body, and the hair on Erwin’s fingers leave goosebumps down Levi’s side. He feels vibrations on his shoulder, of the whine Levi is sure Erwin has let out – like he always does in the mornings – and wishes, maybe for the millionth time, that he could hear his husband’s voice.

Levi has asked many people – Mike, Hange, Moblit: friends and peers and the like – what Erwin’s voice sounds like to them. They all use different adjectives to describe it. A colleague who has never seen Erwin outside of work, uses words like “professional” and “business-like”. An acquaintance who has only ever met Erwin for drinks once or twice says he sounds “knowledgeable, but approachable”. A close friend who has seen him get piss drunk at parties, taken him home, and then let him cry into his shoulder says he sounds “like the biggest dork who has ever lived.” There’s a dichotomy of answers, and none satisfy Levi.

Because no one knows what Erwin’s voice sounds like when he is just waking up from a deep, peaceful sleep, muffling his groans in his husband’s shoulder.

And no one knows what Erwin’s voice sounds like in the mornings when he’s mildly aroused, but not really awake enough for sex, his groin slightly rutting against Levi’s back just to take the edge off.

And no one knows what Erwin’s voice sounds like when his hands find what they’re looking for on Levi’s body, closing his palm around it and tugging, hard.

Levi has gotten good at telling what Erwin’s feeling from the look on his face, whether it be pain, pleasure, or arousal. He’s good enough, in fact, that even though he has never heard or uttered a sound in his life, his mind can still conjure up what Erwin’s voice _may_ sound like, from the way his mouth opens in a moan or the way his teeth bite at his lower lip to muffle one. But he still wishes, more than anything else in the entire world, that he could hear Erwin's voice straight from his lips, with his own unfortunate ears.  

Levi turns his head a little to face Erwin: the man’s eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes casting the slightest shadow on his cheeks. But he _is_ awake – Levi can tell from the way his eyebrows are almost furrowed together in concentration at the task at hand. His right hand is working at him, tugging and massaging, thumb rubbing underneath the head again and again in a move that makes Levi feel close to the edge already. Levi twists his neck to see Erwin better; his mouth opens against his control, and he lets out the breath he had been holding.

At this, Erwin’s eyes shoot up to meet Levi’s, and in them, Levi can see the question.

 _“Is this okay?”_ they ask, “ _Can I keep doing this to you?”_

Levi nods his head, a silent affirmation, and after three years of marriage, Erwin is almost just as good as Levi at knowing what the other is feeling from the look on his face. He doesn’t question him anymore, just continues the jerks and pulls of his right hand, the left one curling around Levi to pull his naked body even closer to himself.

Levi’s hand joins Erwin’s, moves over it, telling him in a language they both understand exactly how he wants it. He sets the pace, as Erwin has always allowed him to. Slow, patient tugs – meant for savoring, not finishing. He sets the movement, too. Closer to the base of his groin, where the pleasure feels more like a silent hum, than the electric spark of a brush against the tip. Levi takes Erwin’s other hand in his, and moves it to his chest. Erwin understands – as he always does – and strokes a nipple, before squeezing it just enough to make Levi throw his head back against Erwin’s shoulder and let out a shuddering breath.

It’s always this way when they have sex. Levi doesn’t ever have to sign to tell Erwin what he wants, and Erwin doesn’t have to either. It was this way even when they had first slept together – albeit, a little awkward, then – and it is the same now.

Now, when they are as well-versed in each other’s body and pleasure as they are in their own.

Levi can’t take it anymore. Between the long, drawn out pulls of Erwin’s hands, and the sharp tweaks of his fingers at his chest, Levi is thirsting for the taste of Erwin’s lips on his, for the short-lived relief it will give him to breathe into his lover’s mouth and feel the reverberations of Erwin’s groan on his tongue. He tilts his head, hand pulling at Erwin’s neck to align their mouths, and mashes their lips together, tongues slipping in. The vibrations of Erwin’s body against Levi’s skin – of his pleasure-stricken voice as it escapes his lips, of the moan that is already building in his vocal cords, of the pulse thumping beneath the hand Levi has on his neck – spike Levi’s pleasure up even further. And he wonders for a moment whether this, this mere echo, could ever be as good as the real thing.

Levi breaks the contact of their lips, feels Erwin’s gasps against his cheeks, feels his own lungs mirror the breathlessness of the man before him, and looks up into his eyes.

“ _More?”_ they ask.

 _More,_ Levi replies, removing Erwin’s hand from his pulsating erection, and moving it behind himself to palm at the swell of his ass.

Erwin kisses the man’s neck once, and his hands leave Levi for only the slightest second, just long enough to pull his left arm from underneath the man so that he can sit up on his elbows to take the lube out of the drawer, and then he is pressed against Levi once more, wet fingers trailing down his spine, nudging open his legs, and pressing softly at his opening.

Levi gasps at the suddenness of the touch, and feels Erwin shush him at his shoulder. The fingers of Erwin’s hand only rub, teasing and testing, moving around in circles, thumb swiping over the smooth softness of his hips. Levi relaxes enough, though he is still pent up from the stimulation earlier, and when Erwin feels the muscle give way, he pushes in slowly, softly, his tongue licking swipes up and down Levi’s ear. Another shuddering breath escapes his mouth, and Erwin continues the passage of the finger he has inside him, rubbing against the walls, poking around, curling to find the spot that'll make Levi go breathless. He rubs at it persistently until –

Levi’s spine arches, his breath hitches, and he feels Erwin’s lips smiling at his shoulder in victory. His finger sets a slow, torturous pace, allowing Levi to adjust before moving, and Levi pushes his hips back to tell Erwin to hurry _the fuck_ up. Levi feels Erwin laugh at his eagerness, at his assertiveness, like they are having a conversation with their bodies – because they are. That is how sex works for them. When Levi’s voice doesn’t work and Erwin doesn’t know the words to say, they let their hands speak for them instead, let their bodies guide each other’s movements, and let their breaths sign what their hands cannot.

Erwin’s hand gently forces Levi’s face to look at him again, and Levi sees how he is panting, his mouth stretched against the movements that make the _Le-vi_ of his name. Again, and again, he says it. _Levi, Levi, Levi, Levi… you’re so beautiful, Levi. Let me love you, Levi. Let me please you._

 

 _Levi_.

 

And Levi? He sobs, because of course he does. Because he has never thought he could be fortunate enough to hear _anyone_ in this life - much less this Adonis of a man that keeps brushing his lips against his ear. Because when Erwin speaks – forget his eardrums, his words vibrate inside his very _soul_.

 

Erwin pulls his fingers out, and Levi sighs at the loss of the heavy weight. But his husband never lets the pleasure fade for too long. Before he knows it, there is another weight taking its place, pushing past the resistance of his quivering hole, and Levi feels himself being stretched around it, the pleasant, low burn, as Erwin fills him with his cock.

Levi feels a ring rip through the air, and Erwin groans, halting his movements. In the haze of the pleasure, Levi almost doesn’t notice Erwin reaching over him to slap the alarm clock shut. And Erwin doesn’t give him much time to dwell on it either, because he resumes his movements the very next second, thrusting inside him again and again, with the same enthusiasm and passion that had driven him to Levi from day one.

Levi’s breathing starts to get faster, and behind him so does Erwin’s. His touches get rougher as he pulls at Levi’s hips, pushing him back and forth against himself. Levi moves Erwin's hand - taking over for the movement  of his hips - and guides it to his own aching groin. Erwin grabs a hold of it and pulls at it, and swipes his thumb against the tip, over and over and over again – not wanting the laziness of Sunday morning, but the frenzy of Friday nights. Only wanting to claim his husband. Seek his pleasure from him, and give him his own.

With one hand working at Levi, incessantly trying to nudge him over the edge, the other one tilts Levi’s face towards his, so he can look into his gray eyes while he thrusts into him. Erwin’s mouth is gasping for breath, and so he lunges forward to steal some from Levi’s lips, and Levi is only too happy to offer it to him.

 

Sometimes, Levi wonders if Erwin wishes he could hear him when they’re like this. Hear his moans, and hear him cry for release. Hear his groans, and hear him say “ _God, please”._ He wonders if Erwin wishes he could hear his voice break when he comes, like he is coming now, completely at the mercy of Erwin’s hand. If he wishes he could hear Levi’s voice scream a litany – no, a symphony – of _Erwin, Erwin, Erwin, Erwin_ … only Erwin.

Truth is, Levi doesn’t even know what the word “Erwin” is supposed to sound like on his tongue. He knows the movements of the lips that create the two syllables ‘ _Er_ ’ and ‘ _Win_ ’, knows the strokes of the letters that create it on paper. But to Levi, that name is meaningless, as all names are. Because they are all just sounds to call each other by.

The man behind Levi is not a name, is not ‘ _Erwin Smith’_ . To Levi, he exists in time and space as a nameless entity; an entity who Levi may not know how to call with his voice, but he knows how to call him _only_ by every other fiber of his being.

And that’s what he does now. Call him. With his oxygen in his lungs, and his moans in his throat. Call him to his release with every supple curve and powerful sinew of his body, even if his voice may rebel against him. And so, when Erwin does come, Levi is grateful that he bites down on his shoulder, buries his moans in the crook of his neck, lets the vibrations run through Levi's body, and in doing so, offers him the gift of hearing.


End file.
